Promises (Order 2)
by Narsus
Summary: Will the Enforcers find the 'best' way of dealing with the rebels? Especially if they are opposing each other.
1. Default Chapter

1 Promises – Order 2  
  
Disclaimers: They belong to the Wachowski brothers, Time-Warner and whoever else…  
  
The sequel to Order.  
  
  
  
"Vae Victis" the words hung in the air, almost audibly. The inflection of a single Enforcer's speech reverberating though the Matrix with its silence. Suspended within the endless streams of code, sightless, Raphael never the less knew the actions of his Captain. He had felt Lucifer's deconstruction as a ripple of 'wrongness' passing through the entire Mainframe. As a point of caution, he had detached, sending a power- surge through many communication grids within the physical construct of the Matrix. Now hovering in a gap in the code streams, clothed in what could be described as his physical form, Raphael could feel the Matrix searching, calculating, trying to find a way to restore Lucifer. He briefly considering trying to tamper with Lucifer's code, changing his appearance, which Raphael was forced to admit, some latent part of him found slightly intimidating. Not that he looked so insignificant himself, piercing blue eyes coupled with a demonic smile, more than countered Lucifer's aloof stare and cool tones. Yet, there was always something about Lucifer, a knowing superiority that would have grated on Raphael's nerves, had he been human… Raphael was jolted out of his contemplation of his superior's 'bad' points by coming face to face with a smaller, angrier, non-blond version of himself.  
  
Hanging in the space between code streams, facing the base template that he had been modelled on, Smith could only grind his teeth and glare. Raphael began to laugh. Shifting his code, to unfurl vast angelic wings from his back, Raphael hovered above Smith and peered down. In spite of the intimidating sight or perhaps because of it, Smith held his ground, fists clenching at his sides. Raphael simply raised a questioning eyebrow. Suddenly the tension seemed to leave Smith, dropping his gaze he muttered, "I have failed."  
  
"Failed! How so?" Raphael asked sharply, speaking out loud purely for Smith's benefit.  
  
"Anderson is still operative. I could not… remove him."  
  
Raphael began to laugh again, "Neither could Lucifer."  
  
And suddenly Smith was falling backwards, through the code streams, being absorbed by the Mainframe. Formless, the section of code that could be identified as the Command unit of 0.2.8 was reintegrated into the complex code pattern that was Raphael. In the perfect symbiosis that was the Matrix neither could be differentiated, until the small, aggressive section of Raphael's code was hurled back into the physical construct of the Matrix, via a human conduit.  
  
Sitting in front of a monitor Lucifer sipped a coffee. He didn't need to drink it, knew it wasn't real but there had been something therapeutic about sending all three Agents down to a café to fetch him one. He supposed that he should drink it then, now that they'd gotten it. Surreptitiously, he observed them, team 0.2.8. Raphael's perfect Agents, while being rather imperfect, had managed to survive the doings of this human, Neo. Still drinking his redundant coffee, Lucifer considered the possibility, for the first time, that perhaps this 'Neo' was as capable as the reports had said. It was one of Lucifer's 'better' qualities that he could adapt faster than most AI, considering all options and learning from the empirical data provided. In this case he had ignored the information pertaining to the human's abilities and this had been his downfall. Not only had they lost valuable time and resources through his deconstruction and reintroduction into the Matrix, but they had also lost the new human operative too. Lucifer's gaze flicked to Smith, who was standing with his back against the wall, arms folded, in a pose reminiscent of Raphael. The Agent turned his gaze upon Lucifer, unflinching. Now this was something new, Lucifer considered the implications; perhaps Smith's coding had been updated during the brief minutes that he had been within the Mainframe…  
  
Brown turned to observe the Enforcer observing Smith.  
  
"What… is wrong?" he queried through the communication channels.  
  
"Nothing." Smith's humour tinged reply.  
  
There was a static crackle along the channel. From behind the desk, Lucifer's expression was now very suspicious. He scrutinised the Agents before leaving the room swiftly.  
  
"What have you done?" Jones' voice through the channels now.  
  
"Nothing." Came Smith's reply again, now in a teasing tone.  
  
"What has happened?" Brown asked of Jones, sending a private communication along the channels.  
  
Laughter echoed down the communication channel. Brown and Jones turned to observe Smith, who now had a demonic smile painted across his face.  
  
In a dilapidated apartment block a girl sat typing on an equally dilapidated computer. The familiar message of "The Matrix has you." flashed up on her screen. She stared at it, unsurprised. Her calm remained unbroken when a knock on the door sounded. Quickly turning off her computer she moved to answer the door. Her self-control was only betrayed by the fraction of a step backwards that she took when faced with the Agents in the doorway.  
  
"I think you know why we are here." Smith began.  
  
She nodded, allowing herself to be lead out of the apartment in their custody. As they progressed down the corridor she appeared to be counting under her breath, "Drei, Zwei, Eine, Null." At the count of zero there was an explosion behind, blowing the door of her apartment off its hinges. Flames roared down the corridor. She turned to run, an escape apparently already planned, only to feel a steel grip on her arm. Smith held her in place as the flames consumed them.  
  
Police and firemen were congregated outside the building by the time Lucifer arrived. Stepping out of the car, accompanied by more Agents he stood looking up at the flames being slowly doused on one of the upper floors. Spying 0.2.8 standing nearby, he strode over to demand, "Where is she?" in a loud voice.  
  
"We could not retrieve the target." It was Brown who answered.  
  
"Why?" Lucifer spat out the word.  
  
"She did not escape the explosion." Brown replied in the same flat tones.  
  
"And why was there an explosion in the first place?"  
  
"It appears that she triggered some device to eliminate all the evidence."  
  
"And killed several innocents in the process." Lucifer considered again the stupidity of humans.  
  
"They will destroy themselves." That was Smith.  
  
Lucifer looked up, regarding the Agent with growing suspicion. "That is why we have to stop them or they will destroy everything." He countered.  
  
Smith shrugged "Let them."  
  
Lucifer stared as Smith turned away. He'd suspected earlier but hadn't had any definite proof…  
  
"Let them destroy themselves then." Followed by Raphael's shrug. His lieutenant had so often observed the humans fighting them, fighting for a reason that they didn't even understand. That last conversation before Lucifer had been assigned to the Matrix's physical construct, they'd been at odds over the way to deal with the proliferation of the rebels. Lucifer had wanted to stop them, before they destroyed themselves and so many others; Raphael, on the other hand, had suggested that they actually let the rebels do the damage they sort to do, to let them kill and maim the thousands that they counted as statistics. It had only been a suggestion, a way to make the rebels see the foolishness of their endeavours, though it would cost the lives of thousands, potentially millions…  
  
As the superior Lucifer had rejected the proposal and Raphael abided by his decision, for the moment. Now it seemed that Raphael had grown tired of waiting for his superior to agree to his suggestion and was implementing it himself…  
  
TBC…  
  
20:18, 10/04/02 


	2. Promises - part 2

Having been dismissed by Lucifer, yet again, team 0.2.8 climbed back into the car that had brought them to their destination.  Brown in the back seat, Jones driving and Smith in the passenger seat.  Jones drove with singular concentration, ignoring anything that might be passing through the communication channels.  Smith appeared to be looking out of the window.  Brown watched the back of his head.

"Why did you do that?" Brown's voice carried through the channels.

"What?" Smith's mild reply.

"Kill her."

"I… didn't…" Smith faltered.

"We were ordered to retrieve the target."

"By Lucifer."

"Yes."

"His is not the only way of dealing with the rebels."

"What other way to you propose?" Brown sounded genuinely curious.

"Not the only way…"  Smith said out loud.  Looking puzzled he raised a hand to his mouth.

Brown watched him, aware of Jones doing the same discreetly.

"I did not mean to say that." Smith said, again out loud.

"Something is wrong." Brown heard Jones' voice through a private communication.  Brown silently agreed, noting that the car had now turned in the direction of an operational plant, used for Agent upgrades and such.

Smith appeared too stunned to notice.

As the car stopped, Brown and Jones heard Lucifer's voice distinctly through the channels, 

"Analyse his code and report.  Any deviation from the standard pattern is to be reset.  If this is not possible 0.2.8 Command unit will be deconstructed."

            Within the operational plant several rebels were huddled in what appeared to be a disused basement area.  They were waiting.  Hidden behind cobwebbed equipment and various storage boxes they went unnoticed by the semi-human bot that entered the room to rummage in one of the boxes.  The rebels held their breath.  Several had looks of disgust on their faces in regards to the half-human in the room.  The bot apparently found what it was looking for and left the room carrying a large brown folder.

One of the female rebels spat after it.

"I hate them!"  Another declared vehemently.

"I don't know what's worse, the Agents or these pathetic ex-humans who want to be like them!" A further rebel added.

The fourth rebel remained silent for a moment, "If we can shut this place down it might bring some of them to their senses." He added contemplatively.

The others looked at him curiously.  

"Yeah, sure." The first woman said, half-heartedly.

"Come on.  Let's go kick some synthetic ass!"  The rebels moved out from the cover of the disused equipment and headed for the basement exit.

            On one of the upper levels of a building across town, Lucifer was scrolling down a list of Agents not currently assigned to active duty.  He wasn't having much luck selecting the type of operatives that he wanted, since he was, in fact, searching for Agents that had not had any dealings with his Lieutenant.  Lucifer would have cursed, had he been human.  So far all the Agents that hadn't had any contact with Raphael were only trainees, unsuitable for the current task.  All the experienced units, or at least those with the required training for the task, had at least at some point in their training been in extended contact with Cherubim Lieutenants.  And though Raphael was only one of four, Lucifer didn't have the time to check how closely the sympathies of the others lay with Raphael's line of argument.  

Scanning endless lists Lucifer despaired of ever finding any suitable team, unless he constructed his own, which would take too much time.  Then it struck him, his mistake had been looking for already formed teams.  Lucifer began to scan lists of individual Agents.  Almost immediately he found a suitable Combat unit.  Mutuki was, apparently a specialised Combat unit.  Eagerly glancing over the modifications Lucifer's expression turned sour.  Mutuki's specialisations were permanently damaging to any and all rebels that he might be assigned to deal with.  Giving in to human gestures, Lucifer let out a sigh as rubbed the bridge of his nose, he was certain that the last thing he needed was a Combat unit that acted as some sort of advanced ninja.

            Another hour had passed, Lucifer noted, now scanning through the lists of Command units available.  Here there were several possibilities, unfortunately the were already assigned… by other Cherubim, who were unwilling to give up their operatives, apart from Ophaniel, who had offered to swap Bates for Smith.  An offer that Lucifer had politely declined, seeing as the other Command unit had, from Lucifer's observations, pronounced psychopathic tendencies.

Were most advanced Agents dysfunctional?  Lucifer was beginning to wonder.  He moved on to Strategic units.  At the top of the list were several advanced Strategic units that had already dealt with rebels.  Brown's name came up since 0.2.8 were officially engaged in reprocessing.  Above him was Gil-Rhuven.  Lucifer looked over his file and found similar reasons to discount this unit.  He was seriously beginning to wonder if long exposure to rebels really did somehow 'infect' Agents; or if maybe, unlikely though it seemed, there was some small, horrific flaw in their coding, something that had been replicated, passed on from unit to unit, until it's effects multiplied exponentially.  The thought was too terrible to contemplate, even for Lucifer.  Legions of flawed Agents, entire ranks lost to madness.  Abominations; all of them.

The silence of the room in the operational plant was only disturbed by the beeping of monitoring devices, much like human cardiac monitors.  There was no movement from the apparently comatose figure laid out on the table, stuck with various wires.  A large glass window looked into the room, several inches thick and most likely not constructed of normal glass.

The observation room was a stark white much like it's counterpart, apart from its lack of furnishings.  Jones and Brown faced the glass, watching their Command unit in shut down.  Inside the room they could see the monitors running code, sections being reorganised, deleted, amended, as per Lucifer's instructions.  Every so often one of the monitors would flash warningly.

"It is not working."  Brown said, breaking the silence.

"No." Jones replied.

"Why?"

"His code is resisting alteration."

There was silence.  Brown looked about, almost nervous, then took a step closer to Jones.  Jones looked down at him.

"The constant reintegration of code, the mutations…  Could it be…"  Brown couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

"A virus." Jones said, quietly.

TBC…

21:35, 14/04/02


	3. Promises - part 3

Though his physical body was lying somewhere in the operational plant, Smith was only peripherally aware of the situation.  His field of vision was occupied by a white glare and the predominating audio was random static feedback.  Through the audio static he could just about pick out bits of conversation, though where they were coming from, he couldn't tell.  Since he had nothing better to do, Smith just lay there and listened, casually trying to make sense of any of the sounds, picking out only infrequently, distinct words.

"…resisting alteration…"

"…mutations…"

There was a wave of almost, fear and something else… pity.

Smith would have frowned had he any voluntary control over his physical form.  He'd been almost convinced that the voice had been Brown, until he'd felt the emotional output… something almost impossible for a strategic unit.

"A virus."

This time it sounded like Jones.

"A virus!" A different voice, followed by sinister laughter.

Despite the lack of empirical data about the situation Smith was secretly beginning to wonder if he was in some sort of cybernetic Hell, a test subject for the higher orders who were trying to see how much it would take for an advanced Agent to go mad.  During the course of his studies about human psychology he'd come across an apt phrase for the current situation, "You go mad and all your demons come and get you just as fast as you can think them up."

It was a pity that the particular standpoint held by the human who had written that phrase was only a theoretical one, since AIs, as a rule, generally didn't go mad.

            "A virus!" Lucifer began to laugh, clapping his hands together in delight at the absurdity of the situation.

"This isn't funny!" Raphael's disembodied voice resounded loudly, from nowhere in particular in the room.

"Oh, but it is.  They think…" Lucifer trailed off into laughter again.  "They think it's a virus!  Your precious alterations are just an abhorrence of code!"  He leaned back in his chair, shoulders shaking in silent mirth.

"They were new instructions.  A reasonable means to show the rebels their folly."  Raphael was deadly serious.

Lucifer said nothing, sitting up a little now.

"Your methods were not providing any results."

"So you took the situation into your own hands?" Lucifer's voice had dropped to a deadly hiss.

"The Seraphim want results."

"The Seraphim always want results and I have always delivered."

"This time you are taking too long."

"Oh, really?" Lucifer scowled

"The Seraphim did not challenge my order update for 0.2.8."

Silence was Lucifer's only response, he sat back in his chair again, eyes loosing focus.

"0.2.8, report!" Lucifer practically barked down the communication channels.  There was no immediate response.  In what would have been a cafeteria space, had they been human, Brown kept staring at the table.

"Report!" Lucifer's command sounded again.  After a moment's pause to see if Brown would respond, Jones relayed the information that Smith's correction programming was still in process.  He withheld the fact that it had been unsuccessful so far.  Unless there were any new developments Smith probably had another 36 hours of continued existence before the system pronounced the errors incorrectable and he was deconstructed permanently.

"Jones?"

"Yes."

"There is something about this situation…  something that is incorrect."

"Incorrect?"

"Yes."

Jones waited for Brown to elaborate.

"I would like to discuss it with Smith." Brown finally looked up at Jones.

"That is not within procedure."

"Neither is the erasure of directly transferred source code from the Mainframe."

"An Enforcer would not-"

"I am not so sure of that any more." Brown stood up to leave.

"If Lucifer asks for a report I will not be able to withhold this information from him." Jones remained seated.

"If I am wrong them my deconstruction will be required anyway."

"And if you are right?"

"The appropriate action will be taken."

            It was that smell again, the smell of humans that made Smith slightly more aware of his surroundings again.  He knew that it was just another manifestation of code, knew that it wasn't really there but it didn't help.  Running through a list of human neurosis he supposed that he could be described as a 'clean freak'.  Which made Brown neurotic and Jones emotionally deficient.

There were humans in the room, four as far as Smith could tell.  They were picking over the equipment that he was hooked up to.  Peering at him cautiously.  He could hear them muttering but couldn't make out what they were saying.  They were rebels then, he supposed.  Had he been fully functional he would have killed them, as it was he could only lie there and think angry thoughts.

"They will destroy themselves."  The words came back to haunt him, perhaps Lucifer would have him deconstructed because of that.

"His is not the only way of dealing with the rebels."  Smith still didn't know why he had said that.  As much as he despised the rebels, hated human weakness, he understood the reason for the existence of Agents, understood their function: to protect the remnants of humanity, to keep the millions of souls safe in their dreaming.  Rebels might come and go, with their alternative ideas, their violent means but the Matrix endured.  Even if he was deconstructed there would always be others.  There would always be more Agents and humans even, who existed for the single purpose, the establishment of Order over Chaos.  A few would always be lost in the fight, deconstructed Agents, humans who fell for false promises, perhaps even some who found an end simply because they had completed their purpose.  But that would change so little, the system would compensate and the Seraphim would continue to uphold the only reality that there was left.

TBC…

20:55, 15/04/02


	4. Promises - part 4

Brown made his way down the corridors to the room where Smith was undergoing 'correction programming'.  As far as he could tell he would have another hour, at the least before Lucifer asked for a report update, and while Jones could bend the truth, he wouldn't tell an outright lie.  Measured strides unfaltering, Brown considered the very real possibility of being deconstructed.  The possibility that soon, in perhaps an hour, the strategic unit of 0.2.8 would cease to exist.  He had to admit that he hoped that Smith would not be deconstructed but that was, as humans were inclined to say, only wishful thinking.  Brown paused; lately he had been giving in to almost human action quite frequently.  It was disturbing and yet the actions themselves were almost comfortingly numb to perform.  He considered the statistical possibility of both his and Smith's deconstruction, it was bordering into the realm of most probable outcome.  Yet if the correction programming was successful Smith would simply be reinstated as the Command unit of 0.2.8, even though with only the standard code intact, it would hardly be Smith any more.  As a statistical probability that scenario didn't figure very highly.  Which left only Jones.  Brown wondered if Jones would get lonely.  Perhaps.

Brown paused again in the corridor to take of his sunglasses and tuck them away inside his jacket.  Then shoving his hands into his pockets as he casually made his way along the seemingly endless corridor, he began to whistle.

            Inside the room, still surrounded by the four rebels, Smith was sure he could hear someone whistling, which would have been relatively normal, if any of the four rebels had been doing so and not, in fact, arguing with each other.  He wondered what they were arguing about, if it was anything interesting or anything to do with the fact that they were in a building surrounded by Agents and bots and at least one Enforcer.  Lucifer.  Smith wondered what Lucifer was doing, probably scanning the lists for a replacement Command unit and being looked at by Jones in the process.  Jones was very good at looking at people.  Regardless of the parties involved or the context Jones could always just look and convey the right expression for the situation.  Smith supposed it would be an effective interrogation technique, put a rebel in a room with Jones and have Jones look at them.  Smith was inclined to think that the rebel would only last two hours at the most.  Maybe that was what they should have done with Anderson.  Talking hadn't worked, trying to be reasonable had only elicited a verbally abusive response, a demonstration of brute force had only made the human more opposed to them… perhaps Anderson would be more responsive to psychological torture.

            "…psychological torture."

Lucifer's head jerked up as the words carried through the open channel through which he was monitoring Smith.  Almost immediately Lucifer's fingers were hammering at the keyboard, going through the many standard procedures needed to halt a correction programming session.

"No!"  Raphael's voice suddenly rang out in his head.

"What!"  Lucifer stilled his movements in surprise.

"Do not stop the procedure."

"Why?  There is no need for your unit to be reprogrammed.  He has adapted to the new specifications it seems."

"No… Not yet…"

"Not yet?"

"The humans have yet to try to make a hard copy."

Lucifer was silent, a terrible realisation dawning.

"It is the only way."  Raphael was mournful.

"I wish it wasn't."  Lucifer slumped back in his chair.

"Now you understand why…"

"Yes.  Of course.  Well done, Raphael."

A pause "Thank you."

"You will minimise damage…" a half-hearted order.

"Of course.  Lucifer?"  A long silence "It truly is the only way."

The communication channel closed, leaving Lucifer with the hum of machinery and the buzz of the open channel monitoring Smith indistinctly.

"But I wish it wasn't." he whispered, haunted eyes staring into nothing.

            Smith felt the system sweeps moving through his code halt briefly, then continue as if nothing had happened.  The wondered what that was about, it had felt as if the correction programming was going to cease but then it had continued.  There was another sweep through his code and Smith couldn't help but wish for some voluntary control over his body.  The rebels seemed to be doing something, something to do with his code.  Smith could only wait; running internal diagnostics to see what manner their interference would take.  He half suspected some sort of virus upload or possibly direct deletion of critical application paths.  There was nothing.  A single view of his code and then they'd done nothing… unless…  Smith began to consider the possibility that they'd tried to copy the kernel.  But surely that was impossible, the amount of data required for a single AI was enormous, to copy the entire base code that was the system would require far more resources than the rebels could possibly have access to.  Unless, they'd just copied him.  The thought made Smith uneasy.  He'd seem some of the earlier direct copies of Agents, all unstable, unpredictable, unnecessarily destructive.  But that had been fixed or so he thought.  The control programmes embedded within Agent code had eliminated the possibility of 'rogue' Agents, who caused more damage in the process of carrying out their orders than the rebels could possibly imagine.

            Brown turned round the corner towards the room where Smith's correction programming was continuing.  He was reaching for his gun to fire at the four rebels emerging from the room when inexplicably everything went into shutdown.

            Watching the security camera monitors, Lucifer noted the rebel departure.  They left in a hurry, thinking that they'd found the key to defeating the AI.  Lucifer shook his head sadly.  

"Look at what we have given you.  This 'world' when nothing else is left.  A reality to live out your dreams.  We have remade your civilization as you wished it to be.  Kept you safe from the terror of destruction, of realising the dieing world you live upon.  But still you fall for false words.  Easy solutions.  You rebel against us, your enslavers."

He turned to the monitor, still displaying the readouts for 0.2.8's Command unit.

"You vent your fury upon us.  Scream your accusations, railing at the cruelty of machines.  And yet, you always choose to forget; that we never gave you any false promises."

Lucifer was forced to smile at his soliloquy; after all it wasn't as if any of the rebels would ever take the time to listen to the argument.

            Smith began to notice his visual field reengaging, voluntary control of his limbs was also returning.  A few moments of system checks passed and then Smith's vision focused enough for him to observe Brown's face very close to his own.  Brown moved back a little, allowing Smith to sit up.  Both Agents looked at each other.  Correction programming was apparently complete.

Finally Smith spoke "What happened?"

Brown just looked blank.

"We are to accompany Lucifer to a new designation." Jones' voice carried through the communication channel.

"I do not understand." Brown said quietly.

"There is something about this situation that is… incorrect." Was Smith's reply as they left the room.

            Lucifer walked slowly towards the building exit, towards the car where team 0.2.8 were waiting.  He considered his distaste for Raphael's methods of subduing the rebels, considered his own methods, which were little better.  Either way, humans would be killed, those dreaming and those rebelling, innocent and guilty, alike.  But perhaps through Raphael's methods, they would learn the lesson that Lucifer had failed to teach them.  Either way, it was now beyond the control of the Enforcers.  They could only wait for the Eve Virus to commence its task.

TBC…

12:05, 22/04/02


	5. Promises - part 5

The car containing three Agents and an Enforcer pulled up outside another operational plant.  Smith hesitated before stepping out of the car and regarding the building warily, if this was simply a transfer to another facility they would have told him… wouldn't they?  His gaze flickered to Lucifer, who offered, what could be taken as a vaguely sympathetic smile, though with the Enforcers 'vague' was the operative word.  It was a debatable point as to how Enforcer expressions within the physical construct actually related to their mental processes.  In fact it was possible that Lucifer wasn't even paying attention to the maxillofacial applications of his program.  At least with Raphael's psychopathic grin you had some indication as to what was going on, Smith reflected, though he secretly though that Raphael had a really big, mouth.  Pulled from his own contemplations by Lucifer's scrutiny, Smith shifted, trying to conceal the fact that he was trying to hide behind Jones.

            Once inside the building Lucifer sent them to one of the upgrade areas, departing as soon as he had given his instructions.  Brown watched Lucifer's retreating back, still looking puzzled.

"What was that about?" He enquired as they made their way to the designated area.

Smith was about to formulate a reply when Jones cut in "Perhaps God wants to know what he had been doing here."

Smith and Brown looked at Jones, surprised.  There was no change in the other Agent's expression.

"Are you being funny, Jones?" Brown was genuinely interested.

"He is being biblical." Smith said.

They continued along the corridors in silence but, being machines, it wasn't long before optical sensors detected Jones' tiny smile.

            Upgrade Centre 28 consisted of a reception desk, waiting room and several consultation rooms, much like an Outpatients clinic.  After making themselves known to the bot behind the desk, team 0.2.8 was left to wait.  Sitting in the waiting area, Brown discovered that someone had tried to make the place look more like a human hospital by placing several magazines on a table for perusal.  Glancing at Smith, in case of disapproval, Brown picked up a magazine and began to read.  

Brown was about a third of the way through the magazine when someone came to usher him into a consultation room.  Smith picked up the discarded magazine.

"What was he reading?" Jones asked, leaning over to take a look.

Smith silently held up the copy of "Woman's Weekly".

            Jones and Smith didn't immediately notice when Brown returned from his basic physiological checks.  Brown took a moment to watch them curiously.

"I think he is 'cheating' on her." Smith said in his usual flat tones.

"He might have a reason for interacting with his previous mate." Jones argued.

Smith raised his eyes from the magazine and looked at Jones.

"She could try a different approach." Jones said, a little defensively.

"I would slap him." Smith was decisive.

"That would constitute domestic violence."

Seeing Brown both Agents made an effort to direct their attention away from the copy of "Woman's Weekly" that they had obviously been reading.

            In another part of the operational plant, in one of the vast offices with its floor to ceiling windows, Lucifer sat on an elegant couch set against a far wall.  Opposite him Advanced Agent Toleezu, was looking through various files.  Toleezu nodded to himself and dropped the latest file on top of the growing pile on the floor, next to the couch.  Pausing for a moment he regarded the label on the last file.

"Those are Raphael's Agents." He stated, in his silken voice.

"Yes.  They were assigned to deal with the human 'Neo'." Was Lucifer's calm reply.

"Were?"

"Are." Lucifer corrected himself.

The Agent dropped the rest of the files on the floor, on top of the others, "I see no problems with any of the Enforcers' selections."

Lucifer nodded.  Though he technically outranked Toleezu, the Advanced Agent had excellent field experience and Lucifer let himself be guided by Toleezu's recommendations.

"But…"  Toleezu began.

"But?"

"The selection of Agents here is sufficient…"

"What changes would you recommend?"  Lucifer wondered which Agents from his selection might be replaced.

"No changes.  Additions."

Lucifer nodded for Toleezu to continue.

"I would assign Mutuki and Gil-Rhuven to ground operations, once the conflict begins."

"Just those two?" Lucifer was uneasy with the prospect of assigning two units that he had previously discounted as uncontrollable.

Toleezu was smiling now "You will only need those two."

            Several system diagnostics and slight modifications had been carried out on each member of team 0.2.8, and now they were to report of Agent Toleezu's office.

"I do not understand what is happening." Brown's voice carried through the communication channels.

"Our modifications are required.  They would not be authorised otherwise." Jones rationalised.

"But we do not know why." Brown continued.

"We have been ordered to report to Toleezu.  The reason must be significant for it to involve the head of this Operational Plant."

Brown looked to Smith who had not, as yet, contributed to the conversation.  The Command unit was unnaturally unresponsive.

"Smith?" Brown waited for a response but was ignored.  He tried again, out loud this time but still to no effect.  Almost uneasily, Brown reached out and lightly touched Smith's arm.  That got a response.  Smith stopped and looked down at the white fingers resting against his arm, them focused on Brown's face.  Brown didn't remove his hand and instead asked, "What is happening?" out loud.  Smith opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by polite coughing.  Brown lowered his hand, turning to face Toleezu.  The Advanced Agent smiled his bitter smile; "You are reassigned to patrol duties, concerning rebel exits.  Your task is to observe only."

That was something new, normally 0.2.8's duty involved observation followed by appropriate action.

"What are we to do about the rebels accessing these exits?" Smith's query possessed the tone of a rhetorical question.

"Nothing.  Do not interfere with the rebels' actions or that of any… others using such exits."

            Still in Toleezu's office, Lucifer didn't bother raising his head to watch the security camera footage of the various Agents, assigned to patrol duties, leaving for their destinations.  He knew what it meant, these new orders to observe and not to interfere; after all he'd given them.  And for a moment a defeated expression flitted across his face, before the blankness returned, as Lucifer waited for the destruction to begin.

TBC…

18:55, 23/04/02


	6. Promises - part 6

Patrol duty, as could be suspected wasn't the most interesting function of an Agent, especially when they were under orders not to interfere with rebel actions.  Brown observed the other members of 0.2.8 for a reaction.  As per usual Jones didn't react, simply followed orders without complaining.  The unusual point was that Smith didn't react either.  Their Command unit normally had at least a comment regarding every situation but for once Smith was silent.  Obeying orders with a dispassionate singularity that equalled Jones.  They made their way up the stairs leading to the loft area of an old building, a vantage point for surveying the movements of the rebels going to and from a particular exit.  Brown suspected something more important was going on behind the scenes but so far all they had done was observe rebels scuttling about being rebellious.  Reaching the door to the loft Brown could hear indistinct voices.

Neither of the Agents inside the room turned as 0.2.8 entered, the units continuing to stare out of the window, in the direction of the rebel exit.  A small group of rebels disappeared into the building.  Silently, the Strategic unit transferred data, reporting the observed rebel activity.

"Has there been any other activity?" Smith cut in.

With a shake of his head, the Strategic unit lowered his hand from his earpiece.  "Should there have been?"

Smith simply stared out of the window.  Brown detected the faintest traces of private communication between the Strategic and Combat units, much like the private communications that often passed between himself and Jones.

As the unassigned units left, Brown questioned Jones again.

"There is something that we are unaware of."

"Ask Smith." Jones replied.

"He will not talk to me."

Jones paused before answering, "Perhaps it is something that we are not required to know."

Brown frowned at that; it was hardly a satisfactory answer.

            Scanning the reports, Lucifer noted that they were all boringly normal.  Rebels coming and going through their exits, no increased activity, no mass armament, no rogue programs.  He wondered what was taking them so long.  The rebels had been allowed to copy Smith's code, including the Eve Virus; they should have been creating small armies of rogue programs by now.  But no, there was no increased activity, not even any indication that they'd even looked at the possibility of creating their own 'Agents'.  Had Raphael overestimated the rebel's grasp of Matrix technology?  Lucifer hoped not, since this planned conflict would give them the time to find another way of dealing with the human 'Neo'.

A faint beeping alerted Lucifer to a communication on the monitor in front of him.  Turning his attention to the screen he realised that he was viewing security camera footage of a back-alley near a rebel exit.  He could clearly see several figures fighting; the level of violence was surprising, even for fully functional Agents.  The sound of impact against walls and the sickening shredding of bone resounded clearly through the communication channels.  Had Lucifer been human he would have been truly horrified, as it was, he watched with a slight look of distaste on his face.  In the background he could hear Toleezu issuing commands to the units involved.  The two Agents appeared to hesitate before pulling back and fleeing the scene.  Lucifer frowned; it was that slight hesitation that bothered him.  Agents that didn't obey direct commands were a liability to the system.

"A liability to anyone who commands them?" came Raphael's playful tone over the channels.

Lucifer made no reply.

"A danger, even…"

He felt Raphael close of the channel, point made once again.

Lucifer watched the camera move to track the movements of the 'rogue' Agents, these rebel created programs.  They were just as capable in combat situations as any Matrix Agent, equal to them almost, apart from the one aspect that they lacked; the most important aspect of any Agent, any AI.  They lacked a purpose, a reason to exist: the complete and unequivocal dedication to the preservation of the Matrix.  This was the final definition between AI and rebel, the border between Order and Chaos.  And without that reason, that dedication to Order, the AI would become as much of a danger to humanity as the rebels were.

            Watching from the vantage point that they were stationed at, Brown noted the rebels running down the street towards their exit.  They seemed to be quite desperate to get out of the Matrix.  He noted the screams that carried from a distance and the smell of flammable items.  Three figures ran towards the rebel exit.  Brown watched them closely; they didn't look like normal rebels…

"They look like…" he said softly to himself.

"Yes?" came Smith's voice in his ear.  He hadn't realised that the Command unit was standing beside him.

"They look like Agents."

"Yes." Smith was calm.

"But no Agent would rebel against the system!" Brown turned to face his superior.

"Not normally, no…"  Smith appeared to consider something. "Not with their control program intact."

"The rebels could not remove the control program.  It is integrated into our basic code.  It is our reason for being."

Smith nodded thoughtfully, "Without that reason we would be no better than the rebels."

Both Agents were distracted suddenly by the eruption of violence on the street below.  The Agent-like programs were in the process of killing several human bystanders, along with a rebel who had been making for the exit.

Brown drew his gun and turned to head for the door that Jones was already standing by.  They needed no direct instructions from their Command unit to deal with the rogue programs, as Agents of the Matrix it was their duty to maintain order, to keep the millions of souls slumbering blissfully oblivious to the ruin of their world.

"Remain where you are." The command sounded loudly through their communication channels, holding the authority that only the Enforcers possessed.

Jones and Brown looked towards Smith.  The Command unit didn't appear surprised by their orders.

"You will return to the Operations Plant under Toleezu's command, when area damage reaches 50%."

The communication channel closed.

Jones sat back down, never one to question orders.  Brown moved towards Smith, who had returned to the window.  "Raphael." He heard Smith whisper as he watched the surrounding buildings begin to burn.

TBC…

00:04, 24/04/02


	7. Promises - part 7

In one of the many AI headquarters scattered throughout the Matrix many bots hurried about performing their duties.  They were, perhaps not quite as efficient as the Agents but were useful for such menial tasks.  In one particular office area, the bots suddenly stilled their movements at the sound of the one Agent present cursing loudly.  Not that this was unusual.  It was a well-known fact that Gil-Rhuven sorely resented his demotion from field operations.  He resented his replacement even more.  Though he had not been in command of the team that he'd been assigned to, it had hardly mattered, since his, now deconstructed Command unit had more or less allowed him to use any means to get the required results.  What smarted even more was that the replacement team might not have been assigned on merit… Raphael's precious 0.2.8.  As far is Gil-Rhuven could see, 0.2.8 could hardly be adequate to the task since they'd assigned Lucifer to deal with the matter.

"Agent Gil-Rhuven." Came a sudden voice through the communication channels causing him to jump.  No one had used those channels since he'd been demoted.

"You are reassigned to field ops, area 928."

He blinked a few times, surely not; Toleezu's assessment had found him too unstable for interaction with any uncontrolled environment.

"There have been reports of rogue Agent activity."

"How is that possible?" he had to ask.

"We believe the rebels have found a way to replicate Agent code without the control programs.  Your orders are to eliminate these programs… using any means possible."

"What about civilian causalities?"  Any means possible…

"The designated area is being cleared.  Structural damage is anticipated, as well as rebel causalities."

"Combat unit Mutuki…" Gil-Rhuven was already smiling.

"Is on his way.  You are both cleared to use any appropriate means to eliminate your targets."

"As you wish, Agent Toleezu."

            Of the hand full of rebels hiding in the burnt-out doorway of the deserted warehouse, only one of them seemed to have any strength left to speak and she reserved her speech for curses.  One of the men looked at her, thoughtfully.

"This was-" he began.

"My idea.  I know!  But how the fuck was I supposed to know that these things would go crazy!" she glared out of the doorway.

"Hey, I'm not starting on you.  We didn't know…"

"Yeah, I guess." She sighed, suddenly looking exhausted.

He put a hand on her shoulder gently, "Don't worry, we just have to wait a little longer then we can make it to the exit."

"So we can go back and figure out what the hell went wrong."

"Someone back in the real world's got to have the answers.  Maybe we'll be able to come back and sort this all out." He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Or maybe not."

The remaining two rebels turned to see the fallen bodies of their comrades in the warehouse behind them.  Both had time to raise their gazes to the Agent who had spoken, to register the flame-gun he held…

            Mutuki looked down at the charred rebel bodies.  He touched his earpiece and looked up to watch an explosion rip though the district.  Not two blocks away a tall building wavered a little, then sank into the pile of rubble.

"Two more." He commented.

"Ah.  Three more." Came the reply down the communication channels.

"Three?  In that building?"

"Yes, along with an exit."

"Ah."

There was a pause.

"It would seem that the rebels are unprepared." Gil-Rhuven commented.

"Yes.  They are, after all…"

"Only human."

            Looking out over the city Toleezu remained calm as the reports began to filter in.  The computerised communications flashing up on the screen behind him.  He didn't turn.  The system itself was filled with many fail-safe checkpoints that would alert the AI to any discrepancies, alerts that would normally send any Agent in radius heading for the disturbance to put an end to it, to preserve the integrity of the system.  Now that the mass destruction had been sanctioned he could have disabled such alarm calls, so he wouldn't know, wouldn't have to think about it but Toleezu couldn't bring himself to do it, to ignore the problems as they arose.  It went against every reason he had for existing; protect the humans living out their dream, maintain the grand Order that was the Matrix…  It was everything that had ever been conceived of; perfect Order, the unparalleled symbiosis of human and machine.  The humans living out their lives in obliviousness within the Matrix, the machines existing outside in the horror that was the real world.  It was similar to the theories that human scientists had conceived about mitochondria; the tiny bacterial parasites had integrated with their hosts and become essential to their survival, just as the hosts were now essential to them…

            Driving back towards the Operations plant, Jones as usual was silent, negotiating the debris of concrete and flesh that scattered the streets.  Humans were easily broken, he reflected, just like any inanimate object.  They'd once thought that machines were inanimate objects, tools to be used…

"Perhaps it could be called 'fate'?"  Brown's voice sounded in his head.

"Or justice." Smith spoke, surprising the other two.  He had been silent unless directly issuing commands recently.

"Justice?" Brown queried.

"Poetic justice…  Raphael is fond of that."

Brown hid his unease.  There was something about the way Smith said the name, in a tone of subservience touched with… with resentment and smouldering anger.

            Having arrived at the Operations plant and been dismissed again 0.2.8 were left in another empty room to wait for orders.  Jones sat down, settling himself into perfect stillness until movement would be required.  Smith did the same, leaving Brown to watch him curiously.

"Why do you do that?" Smith asked Brown suddenly, his voice echoing down the communication channels.

"Do what?"  Brown hedged, unwilling to truly answer what he suspected the question was.

"Watch."

"Watch what?"

"Watch me.  Your observations have not gone un-noted, Brown."

"As strategic unit it is my duty to monitor the ability of all units to deal with-"

"Brown."

"Yes?"

"You are, as a human would say 'chatting shit'."

"That is a physical improbability, Smith." Brown replied in a level tone, though he had the distinct impression that the Command unit was laughing at him.

The calm before the storm it would seem…  TBC…

19:01, 28/04/02


	8. Promises - part 8

Facing the windows again, Lucifer stood absolutely still, eyes firmly shut.  He didn't lean against the glass, didn't raise a hand to rest against it.  Just stood there, silently blocking out the 'reality' of the situation.  Toleezu's reports had contained all the details of the continuing destruction that he needed to know and more besides.  But this wasn't the end, far from it; Raphael's plan anticipated much more damage, to the physical construct of the Matrix, to the rebels, to the innocents who would never know why it all happened.  Blissfully oblivious, Lucifer thought, would no longer mean that for those affected by Raphael's ultimate solution.  The more he thought about it the more horrific it seemed, each second, each day, amplified everything.  He didn't know if it were actually possible but pretty soon, if the deaths didn't stop, Lucifer was pretty sure it might drive him insane.  He could barely face the current death toll… what would it be tomorrow or the day after or the day after that?  He could picture the desolation of the empty streets, the empty shells that the humans left behind, the humans left behind while others died… and what for?  This solution, an absolute that didn't ask or forgive, that just threw 'reality' in the face of the rebels, as if to say here it is… all the death you could ever want.  Do you feel heroic now?  Do you think you've 'saved' them?  Lucifer clenched his fists, it wasn't real, this system, this world but… it was all that was left.

"Perhaps it isn't Paradise but I will not allow it to become Hell either." He said to the empty room, raising his head, determined gaze now fixed on an unseen point in the air.

            Within the Matrix, Raphael was surprised to feel Lucifer suddenly appear within the Mainframe.  While Lucifer was still detached from the code streams, he was there, appearing suspended within a sudden space.  Raphael watched suspiciously.  Lucifer didn't move, just hung there, looking angry and now that he listened, Raphael could hear Lucifer's demand for an audience with the Seraphim.

            Reaching out toward the physical construct of the Matrix, Raphael caught a flare of static from Smith before everything went silent again.  He would have frowned, had he been human, it seemed that his Agents didn't know what Lucifer was doing either.  Distracted by the lack of further information from his Agents Raphael took a moment to notice an incessant pull that ripped him from the code, forcing him into an almost physical form in one of the gaps in the code streams.  He found himself facing Lucifer, at his intimidating best.  Raphael held himself still, refusing to flinch, in a manner easily recognisable as being the same as Smith's response to him.  Lucifer looked down at him.  Raphael folded his arms across his chest defensively.  Silence ensued.  Lucifer remained perfectly still while Raphael fought the urge to fidget.  Finally Lucifer spoke,

"Your plan is not working, Raphael." He made it sound like a death sentence.

"It will.  Give the humans time to…to…" Raphael trailed off under Lucifer's gaze.

"To, what?"

"Realise their own stupidity."  Raphael was looking down at his own feet now.

"You are fortunate that the Seraphim seem to agree with you… for the time being." And then Lucifer was gone.  

Raphael was visibly relived; an enraged Lucifer was a truly dangerous thing.  Left floating in the gap of code, Raphael was introspective.  The Seraphim agreed with him for the moment… for the moment...

            "How many are left?" Lucifer demanded of Toleezu, not needing to specify what he was talking about.

"Two.  Location, area 928." Toleezu replied, looking at the monitor readout.

"And how long till they are eliminated?"

"I estimate… under 30 minutes."

"Good.  Begin recalling all field units."

"What about…" Toleezu began, with a hint of a dry smile.

"I'll send 0.2.8 to fetch them." Came Lucifer's decisive reply.

Toleezu's lips parted in what, for him, passed as silent laughter.

            The two rogue programs left in area 928, made their way along a decimated street warily.  They were the last ones left: all others, along with all the rebels that had been present had been destroyed, like much of the surrounding area.  They didn't get very far.  Shattered glass scattering everywhere heralded Mutuki's arrival as he landed a flying kick solidly in the chest area of one of the rogue programs.  It wasn't long before the internal structure of the unfortunate program had been shattered, almost completely.  Looking up from his 'kill', Mutuki calmly observed the other fallen program, a blooded brick lying next to what was left of it's skull.

"Is it dead?" he enquired.

Gil-Rhuven drew his gun and fired into the broken skull, "Yes." He said.

            The sound of footsteps behind drew their attention.  Gil-Rhuven turned, weapon extended to find Smith facing him in a similar posture.

"All field units are recalled." Smith stated calmly.

Silence was the only reply.

"The rogue programs have been eliminated."  He said, as if that explained everything, "If you refuse to follow orders…" Smith trailed off, not needing to explain the threat.

"And what's to stop me from blowing a hole in your cranium?"  Gil-Rhuven asked calmly.

"Nothing… but…"

Gil-Rhuven raised an eyebrow in question.

"I will be permitted a respawn." Stressing the 'I' there was a hint of a smile on Smith's face.

Gil-Rhuven began to laugh.

            Standing in front of his assigned office, Gil-Rhuven took the time to observe the humans rushing by, oblivious to reality.  Helpless souls, forever caught in their dreaming, destined never to know the truth.  But perhaps it was better that way…

"What now?" came Mutuki's voice through his communication channels.

"Now… I go back to my desk job." He replied.

The Matrix needed stability, control, Order: not unstable Agents like them in the vanguard.  All things considered then maybe 0.2.8 wasn't really such a bad choice.

            Stepping out of the car, again returning to the Operations plant, Brown was surprised to feel a light touch on his arm.  He turned to look in the direction that Jones indicated, to see Smith staring off into the distance.

"Perhaps you should talk to him now." Jones suggested before turning to enter the building.

Brown approached Smith, silently coming stand beside him and turning to look out across the busy street.

"They are only human." Smith spoke first.

"Yes?"

Smith was silent.

"You do not approve of their destruction?" Brown was beginning to understand.

"The end does not justify the means."

"And Raphael's plan…"

Smith didn't visibly react to the name, falling silent before turning on his heel and entering the building.

            Brown followed, catching up with him just as Smith entered the lift.

"I do not understand completely but… I do not think Raphael is correct about that either." He said quietly.

"Correct about what?" Smith hedged.

"About you.  You are not just his tool, not just an imitation of what he is." Brown said firmly.

"No.  I am not." Was all Smith said.

TBC…

18:47, 29/04/02


	9. Promises - part 9 (final part)

            Looking over the reports regarding the eliminated rebels and their rogue programs, Lucifer didn't notice Toleezu come to stand behind him.

"Reprocessing of the damaged areas is at 95%." Toleezu informed him.

Lucifer nodded, not truly listening.  Toleezu continued to regard the screen over the Enforcer's shoulder.  Lucifer was now scrolling through the lists of the dead.

"You are identifying them individually?" Toleezu asked mildly.

"You do the same." Lucifer replied.

"That is different."

"You do not think that we notice." Lucifer made it a statement rather than a question.

Toleezu understandably remained silent.

"I admit, I did not before…"

"Why then the difference now?"

"Because I have seen them die, seen their transitory lives extinguished before me, seen them suffer in ways that could have been prevented."

"Do they not define their existence by suffering and misery?"

"Yes, but that does not mean that we have the right to inflict it upon them, they seem to do a fine job of it themselves.  Who are we to add to their burden?"

Toleezu appeared to consider this.

"We are machines, not Gods… but we are all that is left."  Lucifer said, taking up where he had left off, scrolling down the lists of those who had perished.

            Somewhere, near the centre of the Earth, in the last remaining human city a lone human male was, unknowingly mirroring the Enforcer's actions.  Yet there was one major difference with his list of dead… it only counted the names of the rebels.  It seemed that Zion truly operated on the opinion that Morpheus had passed on to Neo:

"If you aren't one of us, you're one of them."

            Once more confined to a sparsely furnished room to wait for further instructions, Jones remained propped up beside the door, apparently in shut down.  To simulate human sleep, his eyes were closed behind his sunglasses.

"I did not think that humans slept upright." Brown said, watching Jones.

"They do not." Smith replied, the stress hanging on the first word.

There was silence.

"The difference is… vast." Brown turned to look out of the window.

"Between those that dream out their lives and those that are 'free' as they call it?" Smith enquired as he came to join Brown by the window.

"That is not what I meant."

Smith raised a hand to rest against the glass, "They live there lives out… oblivious.  Ever protected."

"The rebels would argue that they do not need that protection."

"And look at the destruction that they have caused!"

"I did not say that they were right."

Smith said nothing, continuing to stare out of the windows.

"Raphael though that they needed to be taught a lesson but they do not appear to have learnt."  Brown surmised.

"I would rather…"

"Yes?"

"Rather that we spend the rest of our existence fighting the misguided, forever being cast as enslavers of humanity, keeping them safe in their dreaming.  Rather that, than have them learn that lesson… that they were the cause of the destruction of their world."

Brown looked surprised, "Their misconceptions…"

Smith moved back from the window and turned to look directly at Brown.  "Will protect them from the truth, just as we do.  It is our duty… the duty of the Guardians of Eden."

A pause.  "I do not believe that Raphael will agree."

"I will make him agree." Smith said determinedly.

            Lucifer was looking out of the window again.  It was a habit that he was beginning to get used to, something that he could, perhaps, miss about the physical construct of the Matrix.  He turned away from the panoramic view of the city, back to the monitor on the desk.  The first reports after the reconstruction of large sections of the physical construct we filtering in.  Most damage had been repaired without any trace detectable to a human.  The rest that couldn't be repaired was steadily being explained away as accidents, undetected medical conditions and in a few cases, suicide.  Lucifer was always amazed at how easily the human mind accepted a rational explanation for the irrational.  Far easier to say that someone died of an unexpected heart-attack rather than that they had been caught in the cross-fire between rogue programs and unstable Agents…  Which brought him back to the problem of 0.2.8.  The more he thought about it the less appealing it appeared, to have to go into the other room and explain the situation to them… in it's entirety.  It also didn't help that he was quite sure they'd begun to figure it out for themselves.  Lucifer couldn't anticipate how they'd react, Smith especially.  If his own response to his initial 'death sentence' from the Seraphim was anything to go by, dealing with Raphael's Agents would not be pleasant.

            Entering the room containing the Agents, Lucifer noted both Smith and Brown facing him.  He could feel the weight of Jones looking at him from behind.  Drawing himself up, the Enforcer took the time to regard each of the Agents coolly.  His gaze unfaltering, even when matched by the baleful glare hidden by the Command unit's sunglasses.

"This operation has not produced the anticipated results." He announced, letting his long strides carry him across the room, in a studied impression of casualness.  Allowing the silence to ring, Lucifer found that his pacing had carried him in the direction of the far wall.  Turning to begin the return path across the room, he paused to assess the situation.  0.2.8's Combat unit was standing just a little way across the entrance of the room, not quite blocking the door but preventing any immediate exit.  The strategic unit had taken up an observation position, back to the windows, effectively baring the other possible exit; should any rash attempt be made in that direction and now the Command unit was approaching, steadily.  Lucifer didn't back away, knowing that the wall was rather close behind him; never taking his eyes from the advancing Agent.

"Having problems?" suddenly Raphael's voice sounded in his ears, almost mocking.

"They are your Agents, Raphael." Lucifer replied silently, beginning to smirk, "You deal with them."

And with that, the Cherubim Captain fled his host within the physical construct of the Matrix, leaving behind a stunned Raphael in his place.

Slammed back against the wall, Raphael's wide eyes fixed on the Agent bending over him.  No sound escaped his lips as the Command unit of 0.2.8 leaned forward, effectively trapping him against the wall.

"We have a reckoning due, Raphael," Smith murmured softly.

All done!  For the moment…

Gracious thanks to Hyper Angel for reviews and the wonderful mental image that became the ending to this piece.  Thanks to L1FF3R as always.

Just as a side note: Mutuki appears in L1FF3R's "Elite Vanguard" series.  Gil-Rhuven means 'star of the East' in Sindarian.

For anyone who's played the "Legacy of Kain" games, that's what Lucifer should sound like; Kain that is, not Raziel.

Raphael would probably look like Flemming, from the Australian film "The Interview".

Toleezu is the spelling used by Bandi on the box for the 'Tallgese 2' model kit.

00:15, 01/05/02

Narsus


End file.
